


No one can deny the excitement of visiting another world

by Tabata



Series: Leoverse [40]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Genderbending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 12:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13927428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabata/pseuds/Tabata
Summary: As per usual, the universes got messed up and Leo finds himself in Lea's world, except that this time he is the only one who travelled and this is a problem.





	No one can deny the excitement of visiting another world

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNING:** This story is a spin-off sequel for Broken Heart Syndrome. This means that it depicts things happening way late in the 'verse, and that may be on varying degrees of spoiler.  
>  At some point, way late in the series, the various universes we've created will start to collapse and crash into one another. This story is about something like that.  
> In this case, what crashes into "canon reality" is a universe where Leo is a girl and Blaine is a straight Hollywood actor with two ex-wives.
> 
> written for: Lande di Fandoms' COW-T #8  
> prompt: NSFW + HET

Lea drops the bag exactly three steps inside and looks at the house, taking it all in. Every time she spends more than three weeks away, Blaine redecorates. She doesn't know if it's an obsessive-compulsive disorder – something like an automatism that clicks in his head: she's not here, I must change everything – or if he just gets bored and refurnishing his home is his way of entertaining himself. She wouldn't exclude that since spending money is one of his favorite thing, apart from himself.

Last time she was here, the living room was an open space going from the door to the glass wall on the other side, with the kitchenette taking up hardly one-third of the space – Blaine never cooks, after all – and the black leather corner couch dominated everything with its expensive look. The TV, a 60” monstrosity that Lea loves with a passion, colonized the opposite wall, and there was a high-end design bookcase – something very weird looking and mostly unpractical – dividing the living room from the sleeping quarters.

But the house she remembered is no more.

First of all, the bookcase has disappeared and there's a proper wall in its place, with a proper door too. Secondly, the room looks flipped over. Blaine got rid of the kitchenette and bought a proper kitchen – with cabinets, a fantastic in-island stove, a beautiful marble sink and, most of all, a table with chairs – which he had installed in the glass window area. The living room have been moved forward, closer to the door, so it's the first thing you see coming from the private elevator. He changed the couch too. The new one is white and bigger, matching the size of the TV screen, which is now framed with an _actual_ golden frame – stress on _golden_ – and flanked by two black ceramic vase that look hideous, so they must be super expensive.

“Who unleash a pack of wild designers in here?” She asks.

“I don't know, the same people who unleash some crazy-ass stylist on you,” Blaine retorts from the couch, looking her up and down. “What's with the damned rocker look?”

She wears a pair of skinny jeans and a short feather coat that underlines her waistline, a large fedora hat that she bought in the smallest shop she has ever seen in Manhattan and a pair of big round sunglasses, which are simply too funny to wear in November. “What's wrong with it? It's cool as fuck,” she says, taking off her hat and coat. It's 14°F outside, but it's like being at in tropics in here. Blaine has an unhealthy relationship with heating.

“Well, what's wrong with my new living room, then?” He asks. He's sitting languidly on the couch, wearing something that completely invalidates the whole sexy-pose and that Lea can only describe as a new age holy man uniform. A pair of black linen pants and a red shirt of the same material with no buttons and a v-neck. He's basically ready to start his own cult and bring several hundreds people on a island he bought with the proceeds of his career, where they will all dance to the moonlight and have group sex. Lea is not sure she will want to be there, but she might.

“Nothing, it's just very intense,” she says, looking around again. “Good choice the white couch with two children under five years of age.”

“It's washable,” Blaine informs her, proudly.

“That's what they always said,” Lea chuckles, joining him on the couch. “Then Logan eats ice cream and bye bye expensive couch.”

“I will forbid ice cream, then.”

She crawls on the couch like a panther, her mane of beautiful black curls bouncing every time she moves her head. It is longer now and more luscious than it's ever been. The red fabric ribbon she tied it with it's the only thing that seems to keep it at bay. “You're such a mean dictator,” she whispers, trapping him under her body and forcing him to put down whatever he was reading, she didn't even look. She doesn't care. She's been away for almost a month and she was a good girl, she needs a reward. “You rule your kingdom with fear.”

Blaine smiles, he lets her place her mouth on his but he doesn't instantly respond to the kiss. She needs to work for it, coax it from him, make it worth it. “It doesn't seem to work on you.”

“I'm fearless,” she says, smiling like a cat. “I fear nothing and no one, someone taught me that.”

There was a time, when she was a teen and Blaine was the strong crush that had turned her world upside down, that she would have blushed at his every word and hesitated before making any move, even speaking sometimes. Blaine literally took her hand and guided her towards the woman she's now. 

He encouraged her to try, to experiment – with him but not only with him, and not only with sex but with the world itself –, to trust in herself before everyone else and against everyone else, to reach her limits and go beyond those, to do whatever she wanted to do and whenever she wanted to do, to live always and as strong as she could. Following his advise, in the past ten years she has met a lot of wonderful people and she has loved a lot of them, she has seen the world and not only the glamorous side of it. She studied law, she sing, she laughs a lot. She truly is fearless and if she is, he has Blaine to thank.

“That much is true,” he smiles and, this time, he kisses her, long and deep as always after so much time without her. His hands find their way under her shirt, feel the grain of her skin, retrace the map of her body by memory. He remembers every line of her from when she was a teen, and he knows how much she changed, both under his fingertips and away from them. There has been a time in their relationship when they would meet roughly every two years and, every time, she was a different girl, and underneath, always his.

Lea is not a fan of slow building sex, unless it's supposed to mean something deeper. Otherwise, she wants it hard and rough, and she wants it right away, this instant, the very moment she knows she can have it. This is something Blaine has never managed to eradicate from her because it's her in the purest form: the lack of patience, the hunger, the need. She burns like a fire and he has always preferred to burn with her than put out those flames. 

It's a matter of kisses before she claws at his shirt, pulling it over his head. Sitting on his lap, she leaves to him the task of unbuttoning her jeans and pull them down. She comes out of her clothes with impatience and then kisses her way down Blaine's body. Even her mouth on his cock his restless and hard, almost painful. Blaine whines, grabs her hair and pulls, trying to restrain her. “You're gonna kill me,” he exhales as her tongue makes the grasp of her lips a little gentler.

She tastes him long enough to have him ready, suckling at the head to tease him as she looks up and locks eyes with him, and then she's up again. “You're harder than that,” she says, stroking him as she chuckles at her involuntary pun.

He laughs too. “That was bad,” he comments.

Lea wrinkles her nose and smiles. “Then, punish me for that,” she invites him.

Blaine doesn't pull her down to pin her against the couch, he grabs her by the hips instead and moves her – wow, that kundalini yoga, or whatever it's called, really works! – and places her on his own cock. She impales herself on it and moans with such satisfaction that thrust the right way and make her happy becomes his only purpose. He reaches up and pulls at her bow, letting her hair cascade on her back. It's so long now that he can brush the end of it with his fingertips when she throws her head back, riding him.

The air fills with their breaths and moans. She calls his name only to order harder, faster, stronger, and Blaine only speaks to her when he wants to hear her louder. It's a battle for will between them; she closes more tight around him, he thrusts deeper inside her body. Lea leans over, moaning and out of breath. “Jesus fucking Christ...”

Blaine smiles and bites at his lower lip. “Give up. I won,” he mocks her. “Come.”

Lea growls and huffs, but then she chuckles – her voice coming rough from under all her air. “You know what? Fuck it!” She says. She doesn't care to lose at this point, and she lets herself go, hitting her climax which such abandon that Blaine is the only thing holding her up through it. He follows her when she finally drops on him, spent. He keeps her still as he hunts down his own pleasure with curt, strong movements. Then, he lets her kiss him gently back to calm.

“Uhf, that was great,” she comments, leaving a wet kiss on his lips before crossing her arms on his chest. 

“Are you satisfied, milady?”

“For now,” she laughs. “But I'll go for the second round very soon.”

“You're never sated.” Blaine strokes her hair and smiles at her, affectionately.

She looks at him the same way. Underneath all – especially the years they spent apart – there's always been something, that strong feeling that tied them up the first time they met and never let them go. “Are you?” She asks in return.

“Good point.”

Lea sighs and pulls herself. “I need to go to the bathroom,” she announces unnecessarily. “We are resuming this conversation when I'm back.”

*

Lea doesn't know what prevents her from screaming out loud when she finds him sitting on the closed toilet; maybe it's her presence of mind or maybe it's the fact that they are connected through some weird cosmic tie – is that what the other Blaine said the first time? – and her mind recognizes him as a part of her or a copy of her, or something like that. Or maybe it's just that she doesn't usually scream whenever she's caught by surprise.

He looks like her if she was male. His hair is shorter – but not much more than she had wear it in the past – and his features are a little sharper than hers, but everything else is the same. The shape of his face, the color of his eyes, even the way he raises his hand and waves it slightly to greet her. It's like looking in a mirror, but a slightly distorted one, if that makes sense. And it's upsetting and fascinating at the same time.

“Please, don't be scared,” Leo says, without moving. “I know you're aware of who I am, so you know I'm not here to hurt you.”

Oh, she would like to see him try. He's very beautiful – of course he is, they are, whatever – but he doesn't look like the type who can fight. She, on the other hand, has taken a few self-defense classes and she's pretty confident she can break both his arms before he can even get closer. “That's for sure,” she says closing the door behind her. “Leo, right?”

“Yes,” he confirms. “I come—“

“From a parallel universe where you are married to another Blaine, who is gay. Yeah, I know the drill,” she nods. “What are you doing in the bathroom? Jeez!”

He chuckles as he watches her walking to the bath tub and sits on it. “Actually, I showed up in the kitchen. I saw you two were busy so I hid in here. Unfortunately for me, but happily for both of us, I knew he would go on for a very long time.”

She smirks at him. “That's the same where you are from?”

“Absolutely!” He nods whistling. “The only thing that varies between them is that you wouldn't catch my Blaine dead with that linen outfit. Well, and the fact that mine's gay, of course.”

“Oh, someone will catch mine dead with that outfit, tho. I will have killed him,” she comments, then they both laugh. “So, why did you come?”

“I didn't. I mean, it was not a choice,” he explains. “I was watching TV, I looked away from it and suddenly I was in your kitchen, which is weird because Blaine told me the house had the same layout last time.”

“Yeah, he just changed everything. Next time one of you come across, you're gonna end up in the laundry basket or something.”

“I would say I wish there wasn't another time, no offense, but I know it will happen again because these things, these movements between universes, are physiological,” Leo sighs. “At least until we find out which one of the parallel pairs is so unstable to jeopardize everything.”

“Look at me, this is the first time I meet my other self and I'm half naked.” She doesn't sound embarrassed at all, and it's probably not because she's basically in front of herself, but because that's just the way she is.

Leo is struggling not to look improperly at her, but she's gorgeous – or he's gorgeous? – and she's got boobs, the only thing in the world that he loves more than Blaine, probably. Boobs are always fascinating for him, especially these because they are a little his too. “I like that,” he says, honestly.

Lea looks at him so seriously that Leo really thinks that he offended her or something, but then she bursts out laughing. “God, you are shameless,” she says. “I like you. We're great. Now, if I remember correctly, when these things happen, one of us comes to you and one of you comes to us. But if you here, I'm here and my Blaine is here, who disappeared?”

“No one, that's the problem.”

“Is it a problem?” Lea asks, she definitely wasn't aware of that. But again, she's not really aware of anything regarding this mess, so it doesn't really mean anything.

Leo is clearly used to speak to other version of himself and Blaine in a way that won't alarm them, in fact he's very vague and careful in answering her. “These things that we experience are exchanges. Something shows up because something else goes missing. It's a form of compensation, a self-preservation mechanism of the universe. It tries to fill the space left empty from a disappearance. So to fix it, we just have to put everything back.”

“Like when a water pipe breaks. You put a finger on the hole to stop the water, but you can't remain like that your whole life, so you take the finger off only to replace it with a piece of duck tape,” she nods. 

“Exactly!” He beams. Usually, he spends hours try and make people understand, but she instantly got it. “You don't know how much I love you right.”

She grins. “I can imagine,” she says. “So, let me guess, we run out of duck tape this time?”

“And we have no fingers.”

“We're fucked,” she comments.

“Pretty much, yes,” he nods. “But we do have a—“

“Lea? Are you alright?” Blaine is speaking through the door. “Have you fallen in the toilet?”

Lea and Leo looks at each other. They both know that there's no way out of this except through the hysterical mess of this Blaine having to face the whole situation again. She sighs. “I'm about to come out but you need to stay calm.”

*

“No!

“Blaine, please, can you calm down?” Lea says, trying not to get mad as she is so obviously about to do because, if there is something she really can't stand about Blaine is that the moment he puts his foot down, it gets glued to the ground and there's no way to make him step back. But she's going to cut his fucking foot off if he doesn't listen to her. “Everything's fine.”

“No, Lea. Absolutely nothing is fine right now. I thought you had cut yourself in the bathroom or that you felt sick,” he says, with the clipped voice Leo is used to hear from his Blaine too when he's astoundingly angry at him. “Even that you were going to show up with a positive pregnancy test—“

“Ten minutes after fucking?” Leo and Lea ask at the same time.

“Obviously I'm referring to the last time we had sex last moth,” Blaine says, irritated. “Everything I imagined, except that you were talking with this... individual.”

She rolls her eyes so much that Leo swears they are about to fall out of her skull and roll around on the carpet. “This individual's name is Leo and he's my—“

“Please, don't say he's your alter-ego from another dimension,” Blaine implores her this time. “It is ridiculous. I can't believe you have fallen for it.”

“There's nothing to fall for!” She cries out, exasperated. “Don't you see that he looks exactly like me? He's me with a wig! We could be twins!”

“Well, you have been adopted, Lea. I wouldn't exclude that!”

Lea blinks at him several time. Her face is almost hilarious. “Are you even serious, right now? They adopted me directly from my mother. In the freaking hospital where she gave birth to me,” she says. “There is no mysterious twin coming out from nowhere, demanding half of my inheritance! This is not one of you movies!”

“And you think your explanation is more logical? A time-traveller from another dimension? Be serious, Lea! If he's not your twin, then maybe it's just an extraordinary coincidence that you two look so much the same,” Blaine insists, crossing his arms to his chest. “Maybe he found your photo somewhere and thought to give it a try and put up this very elaborated scam. You know, weird fans do stuff like that all the time just to get closer to me.”

“Well, don't worry then, I might be weird but I'm not your fan,” Leo says, from the corner is forced to stay if he doesn't want to hear the man scream. “So, chill out.”

“He already introduced himself in my house twice!” Blaine shows Lea two fingers. “Twice, Lea! I should call the police not discussing with him absurd theories on parallel universes!”

She buries her hands in her hair and takes the deepest breath she can. At least she managed to put on her clothes again, so she doesn't have to face this argument in her underwear. “Okay,” she says eventually. “Listen, you don't have to believe this, despite the fact that you should only _look at the facts_ to understand that nobody is lying, but it's okay. I don't care. That's what we will do, okay? You are going to work on the new script you just got while Leo and I will work something out to send him back home. You will just have to do nothing. Alright?”

Blaine doesn't seem convinced. Besides, neither Leo's Blaine would be. “He could be dangerous!”

“That is why we're sending him home,” she insists, and then retrieves a script from the coffee table and gives it to him. “Here. Go somewhere else and read it. It's a hard part, you said it yourself, so you need to rehearse it.”

“It's a delicate part,” he corrects her. “And I strongly disagree with your decisions, Leah.”

“Duly noted.”

*

“You were saying we have an option?” She asks, after she pushed Blaine in the bedroom. Now they can faintly hear his voice as he reads his part.

“Yes,” Leo nods. “I don't know how much Blaine told you about our travels, but all we know has been taught to us by a guy named Pete, who's the guardian of all our universes. He can move through space _and_ time to fix the instances, keeping each one of us alive.”

“Like a Timelord,” she instantly says. “Do you have Doctor Who in your world?”

“Yes! That's exactly what he is,” Leo beams. Oh, if they had time he could spend hours talking about this with her. “He gave me a device some time ago to call him in case something bad happened and I've to the habit to bring it me wherever I go since these problems started.”

Leo pulls out a necklace from underneath his shirt and shows it to her. Hanging from it there is something that looks a lot like a wooden RPG die. “It is supposed to work with my DNA, something that has to do with the fabric of the universe.”

Lea makes a face. “Do you need to cut yourself or something like that?”

“Nah,” Leo shrugs and puts the die in his mouth, suckling at it for a while and then spitting it out. “DNA is everywhere, right?”

She actually laughs, shaking her head. “Right. At least you didn't pee on it. And now what? Are we supposed to wait or...?”

“I think so. I don't know how much time it takes for him to reach a universe,” Leo says, hesitantly. “I mean, since he can skip back and forth on a timeline, it should take no time at all, but these things always work differently for everybody.”

“Well, as you wait, I'm gonna have a shower. Make yourself at home.”

*

Left alone, Leo ends up inevitably to orbit around Blaine. Part of it it's curiosity -- he always want to know the differences between all the Blaine he knows -- but part of him it's the power that always pushes him wherever Blaine is. Or _a_ Blaine is, in this case. The bedroom door is open and he can hear him repeating the same line over and over and over, and every time he says it, he obviously says it worse than before because he's nervous and making mistakes making him more so.

“Problems?” Leo asks, leaning against the door frame.

Blaine turns to look at him and makes a face. “Don't move any further,” he warns him, pointing a finger at him. “You're not supposed to be here.”

Leo raises both his arms in surrender and remains where he is. He doesn't want to scare the beast, after all. And he wasn't about to move anyway. “What is that?” He nods, towards the script.

“It's the new Jacobsen movie,” Blaine answers and then he stops, clearly expecting some kind of reaction from him.

“Never heard of him,” Leo says with a shrug.

“You don't know who Mike B. Jacobsen is,” Blaine sounds skeptical.

“He might never have happened in my world. Or maybe he never became a director. Maybe he's a normal nobody. Who knows? I know for a fact you people don't know who Chace Blackwell is, so we're even. Is he any good?”

“Right, whatever. I don't have time for your stupid stories," Blaine shakes his head. "Anyway, yes. He's only the best director of the last twenty years, but no big deal."

“What part are you supposed to play in this movie?” Leo asks again. In the past he would get instantly angry at this Blaine for not believe him, but he has done this -- or variants of this -- so many times already that he knows how to deal with it. The only thing that still makes him mad is when another Leo and another Blaine don't love each other, but this is luckily not the case.

Blaine hesitates for a moment. He wants to continue being grumpy at this impostor, but talking about his job is one of his favorite things. It doesn't matter if the only person he can talk about it is a weirdo thinking he came from another dimension. “I'm Jens Aachen, a thirty-two years old boxer who's at the apex of his career and received a wound to his head. Doctors say he can't fight anymore because another punch would be fatal to him, but boxing is his life, so he is torn between the idea of risking it all but becoming someone or give up.”

“We have something like that too,” Leo smiles. Sometimes, in worlds where cinema is a thing, movie plots are very similar to the ones they know. “So, what's giving you problems?”

“I don't know, some lines are very hard to convey,” Blaine answers. “They don't feel real.”

“Because you're not thinking like him, you're just trying to play the part.”

Blaine frowns. “Excuse me, are you trying to tell me how to do my job?”

“My Blaine is a theater actor,” Leo goes on, ignoring him. “Sometimes he has the same problem too, he can't instantly connect with a character. When he finds that hard, he stops playing and he starts living and breathing and thinking as the character would do. You're not Blaine anymore, you're Jens. Are you married?”

“Yes, and I have two daughters,” Blaine answers.

“How long have you been a boxer?”

“All my life. My father taught me to fight to give me a chance out of the streets,” Blaine goes on. “He was a poor man and that was the only legacy he could leave me. He told me how to defend myself, how to find the strength to pick myself up whenever someone kicked me down. He taught me respect and discipline. I'm the man I am now because of him and because of boxing.”

“Well, there's a crack in your head now,” Leo shrugs. “Just one good punch and that crack will open, your brain wounded, you will be dead. There's no way for you to go back on that ring and keep living. You have to stop.”

“And be what?” Blaine cries out, raging. His voice is loud and clear and yet broken, somehow. He's fighting himself and someone else and the unfairness of his life that gave him one thing and it's taking it away from him when he needed it the most. “One of those sad former athletes doing commercials to make a living? This is the only thing I can do! This is who I am! If I stop fighting I will die anyway, Barbara!”

Leo smiles. “And I supposed that was your line, right?”

Blaine looks at him in shock as he calms down, slowly becoming himself again. “That was... actually good.”

Leo shrugs. “I've been helping him out since I was a kid,” he says. “Don't play it, be it.”

“Thanks.”

*

“This is a mess that cannot be repeated.”

“Hello to you too, Pete.” Leo smiles and steps aside to let him in. 

Pete is dressed in some very weird way – something halfway between a very old rendition of Hamlet and a psychedelic trip from the '70s – and he doesn't look pleased. Leo guesses that he forcefully extracted him from a big mess somewhere else with his saliva-trick.

“Don't you dare hello me, Leo,” he says in a serious voice and then he looks at him and gives up because he's got a soft spot for him. “Please, it's been a long day and probably some of you are being killed somewhere else and I'm not there to prevent it.”

“I'm sorry, but I'm stuck here. I thought this was an emergency.”

Pete frowns. “What do you mean you're stuck here? Didn't Blaine contact you from the other side? You know he should put...” He looks behind him and sees Lea, “...his other self in the same spot you were so the exchange can happen again.”

“He can't because I'm the only who traveled,” he explains. She's here and her Blaine's here. I'm the only one out of place.”

Pete frowns even more. “That's actually strange because, you know, these are exchanges. Something shows up because something else goes—“

“Missing, I know. But nothing did, at least, nothing we could think of.”

“Mh. What were you doing when you show up here?” He asks. “And you?”

“Watching TV.”

“Having sex,” Lea says. “On the couch, which is near the TV. If it helps.”

Pete blushes furiously and clears his throat. “Right. So that's how—Like, Blaine, I suppose you were having sex with Blaine, right?”

Lea nods. “Yup.”

“Well, Blaine kept you anchored to your reality by being, let's say, anchored to you. That is why the exchanged didn't work,” he explains, looking anywhere but the two people in front of him. “Knowing you, I'm quite surprised it hasn't happened before.”

“Well, you can bring me home, right?”

Pete nods, vaguely. “But she knows everything and... him too?”

“Last time I showed up in his room and he wanted to call the police,” Leo reminds him. “There wasn't much I could say other than the truth. He was technically right about me invading his house.” 

“Right. I'll think of something,” Pete says motioning him forward. “Come on, quick, I really need to fix that other problem as soon as possible.”

“Yes, yes, I'm coming,” Leo says, but he doesn't move. He seems hesitantly, but really looking forward to something. “Lea, do you think I could—“

She rolls her eyes, theatrically. “Yeah, you can touch them. You've been staring at them since you showed up here, I was thinking to slap you with them just to be done with it.”

Leo glues both his hands on her boobs and smiles happily. They're not too big, they're soft, they're perfect, and that's all he can think of as Pete drags him away. The last thing she hears is Pete saying, “I swear, sometimes you worry me so much!”

And then, sadly, they're gone.


End file.
